


The Parking Lot

by Miss_Femm



Category: Wait Until Dark (1967)
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Mentions of drugs, Mentions of sexual violence, Strong Language, basically mentions of nasty violence without getting too explicit, dark themes, introspective, mentions of brutal murder, no graphic violence, takes place during canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 01:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Femm/pseuds/Miss_Femm
Summary: It’s the little things that make these jobs worth more than the money he gets for them, those brief, exhilarating moments of power that are better than any high. (Introspective. Takes place right before Roat kills Carlino. Rather dark.)





	The Parking Lot

The frigid January night doesn’t penetrate Roat’s leather jacket as he sits in a Pontiac Tempest with the windows rolled down. He leans back against the seat, body obscured in the shadows, drawing circles on the steering wheel with the tip of a gloved finger, waiting for the sergeant to arrive.

Yes, he knew those two lovesick assholes would try to bump him off in the end—he knew right from the moment he gave them the closet key. Anyone dumb enough to let a woman like Lisa screw them over and then rot in prison for years on her behalf would want vengeance. He could see how much they wanted to break his neck every time they looked at him, felt their hateful eyes burn into the back of his neck every time he turned around.

He knows the men aren’t invested in the work either—at least Mr. Talman isn’t and that moron sergeant will go along with whatever his buddy wants. When they left the studio doll-less, Mr. Talman seemed more interested in Susy Hendrix not getting her nosy, lying throat slashed than getting the job done: “We still don’t have to hurt her. It would be hard to make it look like an accident. She trusts me. Let me see her alone.” Roat gave him the go-ahead, but he knows it will be fruitless. Obviously, Mr. Talman is a pathetic pushover when it comes to women, easily moved by a pretty face. Roat wouldn’t be shocked if he let Susy have the horse to give to the cops, and then Talman will run off and feel good about himself for a little while. What a dumbass.

This is why Roat prefers working alone—he’s the only person he knows who never fucks up.

As for dear Susy, she was going to get hurt and then some, whether she played nice or not. It was clear she knew _something_ —that she probably had some “good citizen” complex. She’d just spill everything she knew to the police and if Roat knew anything, it was ideal for the cops to know as little as possible, especially when he was involved. So, it doesn’t really matter why Susy’s messing with them, all that matters is finishing the job— and mixing some pleasure with business, as always. He remembers the scent of Susy’s nylon slip from yesterday afternoon and his blood rushes like crazy.

Yeah, he and Susy would have some fun before the night was over… it’s the little things that make these jobs worth more than the money he gets for them, those brief, exhilarating moments of power that are better than any high.

Noise takes Roat from his thoughts. Footsteps land with clumsy force against the pavement in the nocturnal silence. The sergeant stalks purposefully between the cars, no doubt imagining Roat’s skull caving in beneath his brass knuckles.

Roat revs up the engine, eager to see the sergeant’s stupefied face in the garish glow of the headlights—


End file.
